


The Handyman Scheme

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, M/M, Scheming, cheeky sherlock, different first meeting, handyman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-13 05:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: When he meets a man who’s good with hands, Sherlock comes up with a plan.





	1. The First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. We've got quite a few stories, and we invite you to get lost in them. **To keep up with our new stories, we hope you'll subscribe.**
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments. They mean a lot -- sometimes they inspire new ideas and works, sometimes they just make us feel all warm inside.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

John scooted out from under the sink, wiping his hands on the rag beside him. "It's all set. Everything should be running smoothly now."

"It was driving me crazy, thank you so much, John," Mrs Hudson said.

John stood up and started cleaning up his tools. "It's no trouble at all."

"Let me write out the cheque for you, dear."

She hurried off and John finished packing up. She returned a few minutes later, cheque in hand, but then there was a loud bang at her door. She quickly turned as Sherlock barged in.

“Mrs Hudson,” Sherlock said loudly. “I cannot function without water any longer. Stop taking advantage of my kind nature. I cannot work, I cannot wash and but quite frankly, I think I’m suffering from dehydration. I’m sure you are denying me one of my human rights or something.”

“Stop being stupid,” she said, stepping to the side and motioning toward the kitchen. “A man’s just fixed it, all right, so don’t bother contacting Brussels.”

Sherlock peered around her and then took a step inside. He wanted to see this so-called man to make sure it was all on the up and up. “So, it’s sorted?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"The problem is sorted and the water is back on," John said.

“Right,” Sherlock said gruffly. “And you charged her a fair price or did you add on an extra fee for charm?”

"Sherlock! Don't be rude. John is the best there is," Mrs Hudson scolded. 

"I like to think I'm fair with everyone,” John said with a smile. “The charm is free."

“Will all the plumbing work then, or did you fix it just to help the sweet old lady?” Sherlock asked, looking the man over closely.

“I am not old!” Mrs Hudson shouted.

“You’re not always sweet either,” Sherlock said. He moved to leave. “You’ll both be hearing from me if I’ve not got water!” he called on his way out.

“Sorry about him,” Mrs Hudson said, handing the cheque to John. “He is rude and unpleasant, but I still quite like him.”

John shook his head lightly. "That's all right,” he said. “But I can assure you that everything is in working order." John tucked away the cheque and headed out to his van. He climbed in and crossed the address off of his work list before heading off to his next one.

Upstairs Sherlock checked all the faucets -- they all worked fine. He assumed they would, but for some reason, he’d quite enjoyed getting all worked up for nothing. He thought about taking a bath or washing up the dirty dishes now that he could, but decided against it. He moved over to his desk and began to work.

About an hour later, there was a knock at his door. Mrs Hudson let herself in. “Water working?” she asked, moving into the kitchen to make some tea.

“So far,” he said. “We’ll see if it lasts.”

“Why did you have to make such a scene downstairs?” she asked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Yes, you do,” Mrs Hudson said. “How are you ever going to meet a nice man if you behave like that?” She carried the tea into the sitting room and handed him a mug.

“I’m in the business of meeting not nice men,” Sherlock said, nodding to thank her as he took the tea. “That’s where the money is. What would I want with a nice one?”

Mrs Hudson frowned. “You know what I’m talking about,” she grumbled.

He hadn’t actually, but now he realized what she meant. “Right,” he said, hiding his face with his mug. “I don’t suppose I will meet one.”

“I think John was interested,” she lied.

“John who?”

“The handyman you just met a few hours ago,” she said. “Pay attention, please, he’s the one we’ve been talking about.”

“I didn’t realise,” Sherlock said. “And what on earth makes you think he’s interested?” 

“I just know these things,” she said. “I could tell -- you’re not the only one who can read people.” She took a sip of tea and then pulled a business card from her pocket and set it on the table. “Well? You said he was handsome -- what are you going to do about it?”

“I did not say he was handsome,” Sherlock said. 

She looked at him suspiciously.

“I might have thought it, but I didn’t say it,” Sherlock clarified.

“So you do think he’s handsome and charming?”

“Did I say charming?” Sherlock asked.

She nodded and said, “Basically. Well . . .?”

Sherlock stared at his computer for a moment, his empty Inbox stared back. Finally, he said, “Concentrate on finding me a criminal first, will you? That’s what I need to be able to pay your ridiculous high rent.”

Mrs Hudson sighed.


	2. The Second Meeting

Sherlock was sitting at his desk, feeling very pleased. Yesterday he’d had a new client and he’d just completed the case and received payment. It was quite easy obviously, but if he could get a few of those, he’d have a relatively steady income and still have time work with the police when they got in over their heads. And now he’d just responded to a second possible client. Things were starting to go as planned.

This pleasant mood was rare, and perhaps that explained why Sherlock felt compelled to do something equally unusual. 

He got up and retrieved the business card that he’d left leaning against the skull on the mantel. He took it and his cup of tea to the window, which he opened before lighting a cigarette. He rang the number on the card.

When a voice answered, he said, “One of your workers completed a job here a few days ago, and now the water’s acting up again -- could you please send him out to check on it?” 

“Name?”

“John,” Sherlock said. “I don’t know the surname.”

“You don’t know your own surname?”

“No, I mean your man, his name was John,” Sherlock said. “I know my name.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s Sherlock Holmes, but your billing name might be Hudson. It’s 221 Baker Street. Can you send him straight away?”

“Well . . .” the man said, clearly trying to locate the information. “I’m available at the moment--“

“No,” Sherlock said abruptly. “Send John.”

The man waited a few minutes and then said, “Found it. All right, fine. He’s out right now, but I’ll contact him and get back to you about scheduling an appointment.”

“Today,” Sherlock told him.

“I’ll see what I can do,” the man said and hung up.

Sherlock stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, and stretched. He was smiling.

John was elbows deep in a furnace when his phone went off, so he ignored the call until he could finish what he was doing. It was an hour later when he was able to call back.

“You need to go back to Baker Street.”

"What? Mrs Hudson called you?" John asked. 

"No, it was a man."

"Oh,” John said, wondering if it was the grumpy neighbour. “Okay, I can stop by on the way to my next job." He thought about calling Mrs Hudson to verify what was going on, but he was close enough so he didn't bother. When he arrived, he knocked on the door and waited patiently.

Sherlock opened the door. He greeted John roughly with “I thought you said you’d fixed it.”

John looked up at the man. "I did fix it. Did something happen?" he asked.

“I’m not the expert, am I?” Sherlock said. “It just doesn’t seem right.” He stepped to the side a little, a subtle invitation for John to come in.

John stepped in. "Can you show me?"

“Of course,” Sherlock said. He led John upstairs and into the kitchen.

John quickly glanced around the flat as he followed. In the kitchen, he turned on the water and watched it run normally. "Looks fine," he said. 

“Well, it may _look_ that way, but . . . perhaps we need to check the bathroom?” Sherlock said, heading down the hallway.

Once again, John watched the clear water for a minute before turning around.

“And the bath?” Sherlock asked.

John tested the bath. After a moment, he flicked on the shower and watched it spray out of the head. "It all looks good."

“Well, I wanted to be sure,” Sherlock said. “As I said, it hasn’t seemed right. I’m very particular about . . . water.” That wasn’t quite what he’d intended to say, but it’s what came out. “I suppose you are as well.”

John raised his brows slightly, but he didn't say anything. "Well, I will leave you my own card as well so if anything actually . . . I mean, if something happens again, you can call me directly."

“I think that’d probably be wise,” Sherlock said. He stepped out into the hallway. “You’re back to work right now, then?”

"Yes, I have a few more jobs today," John said.

“New jobs or return visits because of problems with other work you’ve already done?”

"New jobs," John said.

“Did you ever think of doing regular follow ups?” Sherlock said. “I mean, it turns out things are fine now, but how can I be sure they’ll stay that way? Perhaps return visits should be a part of your regular service.”

"Well, I wasn't actually working on your pipes at all,” John reminded him. 

“Mrs Hudson’s pipes are my pipes,” Sherlock said. “We’re very close.” As they headed toward the door, he added, “Nonetheless, I appreciate a man who offers guarantees.”

"Right. Well, just call if anything else comes up,” John said.

“Of course. Thank you for coming out. I just like to be sure, you know, and now I am,” Sherlock said. He pulled open the door. “Goodbye.”

John blinked as he was rushed out of the flat, barely saying a goodbye before the door was shut again. As he climbed down the stairs, Mrs Hudson came out.

"John! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, your neighbour called, saying something was wrong with his water, but looks like it was a false alarm. All is well."

She threw a look up the stairs that John didn't quite understand, a kind of annoyed fondness. "Well, I'm glad it's all fine,” she said with a smile. “It was nice seeing you again."

She walked with him to the front door and then marched up the stairs and straight into Sherlock’s flat.

“I was expecting you,” he said to her, bringing two cups of tea over.

“Well? Did you ask him out?” she asked, taking one and sitting down.

“Of course not,” Sherlock said. “I was just having a bit of fun.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. “I shudder to think what Sherlock Holmes considers fun.”

He gave her a look. “I am a human, you know?” he said. “I just had your friend over for a visit. What’s not fun about that?”

“You had to invite him via a complaint?” she asked.

“Obviously,” he said with a smile. “That’s how you invited him over, and it seemed to work quite well.”

“But I had a real problem,” she pointed out. “This is different.”

“You’re right there, Mrs Hudson,” he said, taking a sip of tea. “This is different.” He was still smiling.

John went on to his next job and put Baker Street out of his mind. He just wanted to get back home and enjoy his free weekend. After his last job, he picked up dinner and went back to his flat, settling at the desk to finish invoices and organise his appointments for the next week. When he got to filing away Mrs Hudson's, he realised he hadn’t written anything up for the second visit. Obviously, there was no charge as he’d done nothing, but the office wanted paperwork for everything. He checked the time and decided it wasn't too late for a phone call. 

Sherlock’s phone rang. He picked it up but didn’t recognise the number. Perhaps it was the new client.

“Yes?” he answered.

"Sherlock? This is John Watson, I stopped by to check the water earlier?"

“Yes?” Sherlock said again.

"Well, I just realised I forgot to fill out an invoice for you to sign -- not for a charge or anything, just to document that I stopped by. Is there anyway I can fax you or email you a copy to sign for me?"

“No, I’m afraid I don’t have a fax or email,” Sherlock lied. “Can you put it in the post . . . or perhaps you could stop by when you’re around Baker Street again?”

"I'll need it back right away. You really don't have email?" John asked skeptically.

“It’s not working at the moment, I meant,” Sherlock lied. “Would you be able to stop by then?”

John looked over his schedule plan for Monday. "I might be able to stop by Monday afternoon," he said.

“That would be fine,” Sherlock said. “Wait, actually -- would it be possible to stop by late afternoon . . . perhaps at the end of your shift?”

John looked at his schedule again. "No, it'll be out of the way at the end of the day. What about midday?"

Sherlock was both pleased and irritated by John’s response. “All right then, that’s fine,” Sherlock said. “This presumes nothing goes wrong with the plumbing before then, obviously. If there’s a disaster over the weekend, I won’t be signing anything for you on Monday.”

John rolled his eyes but kept his voice polite. “I’ll see you Monday,” he said.

Once they’d hung up, Sherlock stood looking out the window for a few moments. He had started something with this chap and he wasn’t sure why or how it would end. Then he lay down on the sofa to think for a while and when he opened his eyes again, the flat was dark. He got up and checked his email -- he had something from another client. He wrote back immediately requesting an appointment and then realised it was almost midnight, so it was likely he’d have to wait until tomorrow. Today was quite a good day really, he thought. He took a cup of tea into his bedroom and read until he fell asleep.


	3. The Third Meeting

The new possible client did call the following day, and Sherlock took the case. Nothing too taxing, but enough to keep him busy. He had it sorted by Sunday and forwarded his notes to Lestrade. He’d only worked on one case for the police, but it had been so much more interesting than these clients. While he appreciated that their money allowed him to pay his bills, what he really wanted was the challenge. 

Monday morning John went over his schedule again and penciled in a quick note about stopping at Baker Street, making sure he had the invoice. He gathered up his things and headed out to start the day, his most complicated job at the beginning.

Sherlock set out early to pay in his new cheque. On the way home, he treated Mrs Hudson to some flowers.

“I solved another case,” he said when she opened her door.

“Well done you,” she said, taking the flower and leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Your business is coming along nicely.”

“It is,” he said proudly.

“And your other recent scheme . . . with the handyman?”

The case had distracted him from thinking about that. “Also doing well, thank you,” he said. “In a rush,” he added as he hurried up the stairs. He was going to have a visitor at lunchtime and needed to get ready. He changed his clothes, putting on a shirt Mrs Hudson had once told him made him look quite handsome. He boiled the kettle and set out two mugs, waiting for John to arrive.

John arrived and knocked on the door, clipping the invoice to the clip board so Sherlock could sign it more easily.

Sherlock moved to the doorway, cracking it open just a bit. “Yes? Who is it?” he said in a hushed tone.

"Hello? It's John," he said.

“John who?”

John stared at the door for a moment. "I'm here about the invoice, we spoke on the phone Friday evening."

Sherlock stepped back, opened the door wider, and pulled John by the arm inside. He quickly shut the door. “Did anyone follow you?”

"What? No, I don't think so. What's happening?"

“Nothing,” Sherlock said. “Nothing -- everything’s fine. What is it you want from me again?”

"Can you please sign the form so I can go?" John asked.

“Of course,” Sherlock said, taking the clipboard. “Wait -- why is it you are in such a hurry? You just got here and now you want to rush off?”

"I have work still, I'm just taking my lunch," John explained.

“You came to see me on your lunch break?” Sherlock said, moving to the kitchen. He set the clipboard on the table and poured two cups of tea. “That was very kind of you.”

"I . . . no, I came for the invoice . . ." John said, looking at the mugs sitting out and wondering if Sherlock had prepared this for him.

“Right, of course,” Sherlock said. “I’ll get to that. But it’s your lunch time -- surely you have earned a nice cup of tea with your work this morning?” He handed a mug to John.

John looked up at Sherlock and took the mug. "I . . . I guess I have a few minutes," he said slowly.

“Can I get you something to eat?”

"Oh no, I ate already," John said. "Something quick in the car."

“I don’t think that’s good for your health,” Sherlock said. “Just because you’re busy, you shouldn’t be neglecting yourself.” He sat down. “Sit for a moment -- I won’t keep you long, but I thought it might be nice to chat for a moment.”

John glanced at the chair and then moved to sit down. "Just a few minutes," he said.

“Good,” Sherlock said. He took a sip of tea. “So you’re entirely sure no one followed you here?”

"Who would have followed me?" John asked curiously.

“A man who wants to kill me,” Sherlock said with a smile. “Did you see anyone suspicious?”

"A few, but I took care of them," John smiled back.

“Excellent,” Sherlock said. “Perhaps I should hire you as a body guard.”

"Hmm, I don't know if I can work it in my schedule."

“Are you a busy man?” Sherlock asked.

"Very busy," John nodded. 

“Is that why you only have time to visit me at lunch time?”

"I'm not visiting . . ." John trailed off and fought a smile. "Yes. It's important to make time for what you like."

“Are you sure you haven’t just come up with an excuse to get my signature to steal my identity?” Sherlock said. “I have yet to decide if you can be trusted.”

"I guess you'll have to wait to find out," he said cryptically.

“Does this mean I should expect our pipes to burst at some point? I was sure you said your work was guaranteed.”

"My work is always guaranteed." 

“That is excellent to hear,” Sherlock said. “My work, too, comes with a guarantee.”

"That's good. That's important." John sipped his tea. "What is it that you do?"

“I’m a consulting detective,” Sherlock said. “I solve puzzles. Have any that need solving? My rates are reasonable . . . for friends.”

John shook his head. “A detective? That sounds interesting."

“It’s very interesting,” Sherlock said, giving John a serious but sly look. “Perhaps I could tell you about it the next time our pipes break.”

John laughed. "Does that happen often?"

“Well, something went wrong once obviously and then -- as we know -- they appeared to go off again until you stopped by to sort them. Which reminds me . . .” Sherlock said, as he got up to grab the clipboard. He scribbled his name on the paper and handed it to John. “There you go. Everything’s in order. All is well.”

John took the clipboard and smiled. "Thanks--oh, is that the time?” he asked, noticing the clock. “I have to go, I'm sorry. I have a full afternoon."

“I’m sure you have much more important people to see,” Sherlock said. “Thank you for coming out.”

"Of course," John said. "Just call if you need anything else . . .thanks for the tea." He left and began to hurry as he hit the stairs.

Sherlock moved to the window and watched him walk away. He’d quite enjoyed that. He took the mugs to the sink and moved to his desk to start working. He wrote up notes for the rest of the afternoon and had just finished when Lestrade called -- not to solve a case but for Sherlock’s input on the logic of a case they’d already solved. Still it was something so they arranged to meet the following day. Sherlock went out for a walk, feeling good about the day.


	4. The Fourth Meeting

On Tuesday morning, John started early, getting his list of jobs together before leaving since he fell asleep before doing it the night before.

Sherlock arrived at Scotland Yard and was locked into a small room with the evidence. It took him all day, but he found what Lestrade needed. He left feeling proud -- not because of Lestrade’s praise, but because he’d enjoyed the challenge and had met it. He spent the next day lazily -- first by sleeping much later than he’d intended to and next by helping Mrs Hudson shift the furniture around her flat. It was quite boring, but he did his best to tolerate her indecision and nitpicking.

John worked into his lunch and took his break a bit later than usual. When he realized what area he was in he made an impulse decision and drove to Baker Street, knocking loudly.

Sherlock had just checked his email to find nothing when he heard the knock. He went downstairs and pulled open the door. He hid his smile when he saw John’s face. “I knew you’d be back,” he said.

"I know you like check ups," John said.

“Sometimes,” Sherlock said. “Are you saying I need one?”

John shrugged. "Just to be safe."

Sherlock opened the door wider and stepped forward a little. “Is this something kind of insult about my own health? I can assure you I’m well,” he said.

John's brows furrowed. "No, your pipes. I mean the pipes."

Sherlock stepped back and headed in, leaving the door open for John to follow. He was smiling out of sight. John closed the door and followed him up to his flat.

“What do you need to check?” Sherlock asked.

"I should just have a look at the water," he said.

“Help yourself,” Sherlock said. “Can I put the kettle on while you do?”

"Umm, let me check the water first," John said, going into the kitchen with him.

“Fine,” Sherlock said reaching for two mugs before grabbing the milk. “Do you whatever you need to do.”

John turned on the water and watched it for a moment. "Seems to be working fine."

Sherlock turned the kettle on. “Good,” he said. “I’ve not noticed anything -- nothing like before.”

"Yes, it's good." John sat down and looked around. "No problems."

Sherlock handed John a cup of tea. “And that’s it?” he asked. “That’s all you needed?”

John looked back at Sherlock and stood again. "No. I wanted to take you out to dinner," he said.

Sherlock tried to keep his face completely neutral. “I see,” he said. “And would this be to further discuss plumbing?”

"No. Other things. Interests," John said. “You could tell me about all the interesting aspects of being a detective.”

“I see,” Sherlock said again. He took a sip of tea and pretended to think again. “Yes, I think that’s a wise suggestion.” He gave John a small smile.

John smiled. "Great. Can I text the number you've given me so we can make plans?"

“You can,” Sherlock said. “Or we could make plans now.”

"How about this Saturday?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. “Saturday would be fine,” he said. “We’ll just be getting food?”

John nodded. "If that's all right with you," he said.

“Yes, it’s all right with me,” Sherlock said. He finished his tea. “Can I ask . . . did you come over here just to ask me to dinner?”

John smiled and nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "I did."

“Admirable,” Sherlock said.

"I'm glad you think so. I should be going, but it was good to see you."

Sherlock stood up and took John’s mug from him. He moved toward the door. “Have you been stopping at Mrs Hudson’s flat each time you’ve come here?” he asked.

John shook his head, biting his lip guiltily.

“She’ll be very envious of me then,” Sherlock said.

John chuckled softly. "I hope not."

“She’d have every right to be -- all this extra service I’ve received. And she’s the one who paid.”

"I don't think she paid me to take you to dinner."

“Good,” Sherlock said with a laugh. “Though it wouldn’t have surprised me if she had.”

John shook his head. "All me," he smiled. "I'll talk to you soon."

“All right,” Sherlock said. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

He went to the window again and watched John walk away. This was going to be interesting.

John went through the rest of his jobs with a lighter step. He'd been right about Sherlock's motives, and now they had a date. He thought about it all day. When he got home that night he found Sherlock's number and saved it into his phone.

_Hello. -JW_

Sherlock was walking home from the news agents when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and stared at it for a moment, before figuring out who JW was.

_Hello. SH_

_Did you have a good day? -JW_

_I did. I’ve been very busy. And you? SH_

_Very busy as well, I'm only just getting home. -JW_

Sherlock had let himself into the flat. He took off his coat and then moved to the sofa.

_Are you texting me about the date? SH_

_I am. -JW_

_You don’t regret the offer, do you? SH_

_Not at all. Do you? -JW_

_I do not. Is it still going to happen on Saturday? SH_

_Yes, that's my free day. -JW_

_And you’re still committed to going out to eat? SH_

_Did you have something else in mind? -JW_

_Yes. But we can eat as well. I know that’s part of a date. Where do you want to get dinner? SH_

_Do you have a preference? -JW_

_No. Pick a place you enjoy. SH_

_Okay. I'll get back to you with details_. -JW

_All right. I should be home all evening. SH_

John put his phone away and tried to think about where he'd like to take Sherlock.

Sherlock set his phone down and got up to make himself some tea and sort his notes from his research. Things were going well with work and with his “other little scheme with the handyman” as Mrs Hudson had called it.

John took a hot shower and ordered delivery for dinner, flipping on the news while he ate. He picked up his phone again and opened the messages with Sherlock. 

_How do you feel about sushi? -JW_

Sherlock was lying on his bed when the text came in.

_An excellent choice. SH_

_Good. Have you been before? -JW_

_I have. Do you have a particular place in mine? There’s one near mine that’s excellent. SH_

_Let's go there then. I'm always looking for a good place. -JW_

_What time? SH_

_Around 7? -JW_

_Perfect. And will you be wearing your finest suit? SH_

_I don't think so, but I'll be sure to look really nice. -JW_

_I’m sure you will. You’ve look quite nice so far, even in work clothes. SH_

John grinned stupidly.

_Yeah? I'm glad I'm not the only one that was looking. -JW_

_I thought you’d come over to check out the pipes. SH_

_I'm an overachiever. -JW_

Sherlock smiled to himself.

_Impressive. I was hoping to show you a bit about my work on Saturday. SH_

_Oh! I would love to see that. -JW_

_Good. It could be messy. Maybe even dangerous. Would this be a problem? SH_

_Not at all. Sounds even more interesting. -JW_

_I’m glad to hear that. I suppose you must find yourself in dangerous situations at work quite often. SH_

_Not very many. It's a quiet job. -JW_

_But you’re interested in danger? SH_

_In excitement. -JW_

_Danger is exciting. SH_

_Sometimes yes, I suppose so. -JW_

_I am experienced with danger which I confess I do find exciting. We’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry. SH_

_As long as you won't ruin my finest suit. -JW_

_I’ll pay to have it cleaned. SH_

_Sounds like you'll need to have me out of it. -JW_

Sherlock smiled. That was a bit cheeky, but he quite liked it. He decided to match it.

_We’ll see how dirty we get. SH_

John grinned. 

_Now that's a proper thrill. -JW_

_I hope it will be. SH_

_I don't doubt it. -JW_

_You strike me as someone who gives himself a curfew. Will you be flexible Saturday night? I cannot guarantee you’ll get home by midnight. SH_

_I can be very flexible. -JW_

_Excellent. I was looking forward to Saturday before but now I’m even more eager. SH_

_Me too. -JW_

_If anything changes, call. Otherwise I’ll see you at 7 on Saturday. SH_

_See you then. -JW_

Sherlock stared at his phone for a few minutes. He’d enjoyed the conversation which meant he’d been right to start this little adventure. He wondered what Mrs Hudson would think. That made him smile.

John put his phone down, still smiling as he finished his dinner. 


	5. The Date

Sherlock did see Mrs Hudson the next day -- it did not take her long to deduce that something was afoot, but he decided not to reveal any details. For some reason, he was worried she’d call it a scheme again. Maybe it had been that at the start, but it didn’t quite feel like that anymore.

John set up his schedule for the next two days and tried to stay focused and work efficiently but his mind wandered more than once to the upcoming date with Sherlock. Not so much the date but seeing him again without work pressing him for time. He was excited.

On Friday night Sherlock had promised himself to try to get to sleep. He knew getting an early night was useless, but he did manage to lie down around 2am. However, his mind kept him awake for a few hours, veering between questioning, excitement, and yes, a little anxiety. Eventually he slept and when he woke up early afternoon, he began getting things ready for tonight.

Saturday John slept in and woke up excited. He pulled his phone close but resisted texting Sherlock just yet. He went to his desk and worked on some paperwork and paid his own bills before making breakfast. Finally he decided to send a quick text.

Sherlock’s phone vibrated as he came out of the shower. At first he panicked that John was cancelling, but he wasn’t. 

_I was thinking of you. I will see you in five hours. SH_

_Perfect. I can't wait. -JW_

_Excellent. I like an eager partner in an adventure. SH_

John grinned and couldn't think of something clever to say, so he left it for now to start getting ready. 

Sherlock went back into the bathroom to shave and then slipped into his pajamas before tidying the flat and putting clean sheets on the bed. Just in case. Eventually he got dressed and then headed out to the restaurant.

John took a long time picking out clothes for the evening, wanting to look as handsome as Sherlock expected him to. He arrived at the restaurant and got a table near the window to wait for Sherlock.

Sherlock saw John through the window. He looked even more handsome dressed in normal clothes, though Sherlock hadn’t expected the jumper. Still, very handsome, he thought as he went over to the table.

John stood when Sherlock got close. "Hi," he smiled. "Is this spot okay?"

“Excellent,” Sherlock said, taking off his coat and sitting down. “I was just thinking that you look handsome so I thought I should tell you,” he added, a little awkwardly.

John's cheeks warmed as he smiled. "You too. Well, you have every time I've seen you, but I should tell you as well."

“I didn’t look handsome the first day,” Sherlock said. “I looked annoyed.”

"Still handsome, though," John smiled.

Sherlock shook his head a little. He glanced around. “You like the place?” he asked.

John nodded. "It looks really nice. I'm sure the food will be amazing."

A server came over and handed them menus. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

Sherlock looked at John.

"Do you want some wine?"

“Yes,” Sherlock said.

John ordered a bottle for the table.

Sherlock looked over the menu. “Have you had sushi before?” he asked.

John nodded. "I have. I love it."

“Good,” Sherlock said. “You should eat a good meal so you have energy for later.” He glanced over. “For the adventure, I mean.”

"The adventure . . . right," John said.

“Actually,” Sherlock said over the menu. “Perhaps I’m overselling it . . .”

"What do you mean?"

“I think I was wanting to impress you,” Sherlock admitted.

"Oh. You don't have to try. I like you very much already."

“That’s reassuring, though slightly confusing,” Sherlock said. “Regardless -- I suppose I thought I could show you something about a case I’ve yet to solve. Still interested even though it probably won’t be that dangerous at all?”

"I am, yes. What's it about?"

“A suicide,” Sherlock said. “That wasn’t a suicide.” He stopped abruptly when the server brought over the wine and took their order. After he left, Sherlock took a sip of wine and continued, “I’m sure it’s murder, but the ruling is suicide. I’m trying to get the police to trust me so they re-open the case. And when they do, I plan to have it solved.”

"That sounds complicated," he smiled. "You must be very clever."

“I am,” Sherlock said. “I suppose we’re similar -- we like to figure out and solve problems.”

John nodded. "Yes, that seems true."

“Good, so that means you must be very clever as well.”

"I like to think so," he grinned. 

“I knew it,” Sherlock said, taking a drink.

The waiter came over and set down their food. Sherlock nodded to him and John smiled and started eating his meal with a happy hum.

Sherlock picked up a piece and popped it into his mouth. “This is nice,” he confessed.

John nodded. "It really is."

“Do you eat out a lot?” Sherlock asked.

John flushed lightly. "Not really,” he said. “But I do love food, which probably shows," he added, patting his belly. 

“Not at all,” Sherlock said. “You’re very fit, I think. I’m just wondering if the food thing will be an issue.”

"In what way?"

“I don’t eat much,” Sherlock said quickly. He realised that perhaps he’d said something that should have stayed a thought. “I meant, if we keep seeing each other,” he added, stumbling a little. “If you want to obviously.”

John tilted his head a bit. "I do want to keep seeing you. I still don't see why the food thing will be a problem," he said.

“Fine, it won’t be,” Sherlock said with a smile. “I’ll remind you that you said that, though. Just so you know, I have an excellent memory.”

John grinned. "Okay, because mine is awful."

“I’m not sure I believe that,” Sherlock said. “I have a feeling you remember the important things.” He took another bite and sat back in his chair a little. “We should probably find out more about each other. Do you have family?”

"I do," John smiled. "I don't see them very often -- it's just my sister now."

“Your parents are dead?”

John nodded. "My dad a long time ago. My mum just a few years," he said. "Do you have a big family?"

“No, I have parents and one brother, who is a--” Sherlock paused and then added, “who is irritating.”

"I don't get on very well with my sister either," John admitted. 

“Why?” Sherlock asked, guessing it was not for the same reasons as his own.

"Oh, just a lot of stuff," John said vaguely.

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” Sherlock said. “I don’t get on with my brother because he is smug, demanding, and all around annoying.”

"How long have you lived in London?"

“I came to university here and haven’t really left . . . well, I was away for a short time, but I won’t leave again,” Sherlock said. “And you?”

"Before I cam here, I was in the army," John said.

“As a doctor?” Sherlock asked.

John glanced up a bit surprised. "I was, yes. How did you know?"

“Your face when you checked your work on your pipes,” Sherlock said. “Like you were curing them,” he added with a sly smile.

John raised his brows skeptically bit. "I was a doctor, yes."

“Yet now you are a handyman,” Sherlock stated.

"Now I am a handyman," John agreed without adding more, eating another piece of sushi instead.

Sherlock followed John’s actions, following up with a sip of wine. “And now you and I are going to go on an adventure.”

John looked up again and smiled. "Yes we are," he said.

“I’m enjoying myself,” Sherlock said, sitting back in his chair. “It’s been a while since I’ve done that.”

"Well, I am glad I am a part of it.”

Sherlock took another sip of wine and thought for a moment. Then suddenly he said, “I forgot to ask -- do you live alone?”

"I do, yeah. I assume you mean flatmates? I mean, I'm single as well," he clarified.

Sherlock pulled a face. “Perhaps I am naive, but surely the fact that we are on a date illustrates that you are single,” he said. “Or maybe you see things differently.”

"I do not," John said. “I just wanted to be sure what you were asking.”

“What else do you need to be sure about, John Watson?”

John tilted his head a bit. "I feel pretty sure right now," he said. "I know I want to keep seeing you."

“Good,” Sherlock said. He leaned forward a little as he looked closely into John’s eyes. Then he raised his glass to tap John’s. “Good,” he repeated.

The server came over to check on them. “Can I get either of you anything else?” he asked.

John tore his eyes from Sherlock's. "No thank you," he said. He picked up the bill as the waiter walked away.

Sherlock leaned forward to reach for his wallet. “Shall I pay?” he asked.

John shook his head. "I'll get it."

“All right,” Sherlock said, sitting back. “I won’t argue.”

John paid the bill and leaned back to finish up the wine in his glass. 

“So I was thinking that we could take a little walk,” Sherlock said. “I’d like to take you somewhere -- it’s not far. Does that sound agreeable?”

"That sounds very agreeable," John nodded. He wasn't ready for the date to end just yet.

“Shall we go?” Sherlock said, pushing his chair back and standing up to put on his coat.

John stood and put on his coat as well. "Yes, let's go."

Sherlock led John out on the street, and they began to walk. He pulled a cigarette out and offered one to John but was not surprised when he didn’t take it. He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply before exhaling into the sky. “Would you say you are open-minded, John?” he asked.

"Yes, I like to think so," he said.

“Good,” Sherlock said. “Come on,” he added quickly, pulling John’s arm to lead him down a dark alley. They emerged on the next street. Sherlock was still holding John’s arm as they crossed and climbed a few steps to what looked like a little park. Sherlock opened a gate and they walked down a stone path. Soon they were surrounded by stones and Sherlock stopped in front of one. “Well, here it is,” Sherlock said. “My unsolved case.”

John looked around and then looked at the grave. "What happened to him?" 

“He died,” Sherlock said. He glanced over with a smile. “I think he was murdered, but I don’t know how yet.”

"Is it a cold case you're working on?"

“Dead cold,” Sherlock said. “It’s not really a case, I suppose. To anyone but me, I mean.”

"Hmm, a mystery," John smiled. "Any progress?"

“Possibly,” Sherlock said. “I’ve been working on him a long time.”

“Is he a relative of yours?”

“No.”

“Why do you care?” John asked. “I mean, why are you working on the case? How’d you even find out about him?

“A professor used him as an example at uni,” Sherlock explained. “And I got curious. I still am. I’m determined to solve it.”

“How close are you?”

Sherlock looked over. John’s face seemed curious -- like he really wanted to know about this. John bent down to examine the headstone. He was curious. Sherlock liked that very much. He bent down as well and explained what he knew about the man’s life and death.

John stood up. “It sounds like you’ve solved it,” he said.

“And I’ll prove it one day,” Sherlock said. “For no reason other than to be right.”

"Well, maybe I can help," John offered. "If you want."

“Maybe,” Sherlock said. He wondered what that meant but liked the idea. He stepped back from the gravestone. “Sorry this wasn’t very dangerous,” he added.

"It was. I'm afraid of cemeteries," John teased.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” Sherlock said. “Is the date over? I don’t really want it to be.”

"I don't want the date to be over either," John said. "Want to come back to mine?"

“Yes, I do,” Sherlock said.

John smiled. "Okay, come on."

Sherlock slipped his arm through John’s and they began walking out of the cemetery.

John hailed a cab when they got to the street and gave his address. "It's not far."

Once they got into the taxi, Sherlock turned. “John,” he said. “What are we going to do at your flat?”

John flushed lightly but smiled. "I think we'll come up with something fun."

“That sounds excellent,” Sherlock said. He turned to look out the window, but reached over and rested his hand on John’s thigh.


	6. At John's Flat

John bit his lip to fight a satisfied grin. He paid when they arrived and led Sherlock inside. "It's not much," he said.

“You’ve seen my flat -- that business is not a priority to me,” Sherlock said. He looked around. John wasn’t lying. “Why is it so empty?” he asked.

John looked around. "I don’t know," he said, shrugging. "I haven't bought very much since I came back."

“Right,” Sherlock said. “Do you have a bed?”

John snorted a small laugh. "Come find out," he said, leading the way.

“I didn’t mean--” Sherlock said, but moved to follow him.

John turned on the light and waved his hand to show off the whole room, smiling at Sherlock, waiting to read his feelings about where this might go.

Sherlock looked over at John. “Is this where you usually entertain your guests?” he asked.

"I have, but it's been a while," John shrugged. "Are you looking for entertainment?"

“No,” Sherlock said. “That’s not what I’m looking for.” He stepped a little closer to John.

John looked up at him. "And what are you looking for?"

“You are what I’ve been looking for,” Sherlock said. He put his hands on John’s arms and pulled him close, kissing him roughly on the mouth.

John hummed in surprise, shifting an arm free to tangle his hand in Sherlock's curls as he kissed back with equal intensity. Sherlock kept the kiss going, sliding his hands to John’s lower back and pulling his hips against his. He moved forward, backing John nearer to the bed, before slowly lowering them both down against the mattress. He crawled over John and continued kissing his mouth as his hand moved down to his hip, gripping it, rocking his body against the bed. John groaned in approval, his hands tugging Sherlock's shirt out of his trousers to get it off.

Sherlock shifted more of his weight onto John. He could feel himself starting to get hard. John pushed his hands up to feel Sherlock's skin, tracing muscles and lines up to his chest and then back down again to start working open the buttons while they kissed. Sherlock exhaled when John’s hand touched his skin. It’d been a very long time since he’d been touched like this. His own hand moved to John’s waistband, opening his belt and popping over the button. “Okay?” he asked softly.

John nodded, using the break in kissing to do away with Sherlock's shirt properly and then began focusing on his jaw and neck. 

“That’s good,” Sherlock mumbled as he unzipped John’s jeans and slid his hand inside, to first palm and then softly rub John’s cock through his pants.

"Fuck," John moaned softly, bucking into his hand. 

“Come on,” Sherlock said, shifting them so they could rid themselves of their clothes.

John took his shirt off and threw it to the side, pushing his pants down as well. As soon as they were nude, Sherlock slid his body next to John’s, tangling their legs. He kissed his mouth hard as he let his hands explore John’s skin.

"You're very sexy," John said softly, his hand exploring as well.

“This is sexy,” Sherlock said. He dropped his head to suck on John’s neck as his hand found John’s cock and he started a slow stroke.

"I want to taste you," John moaned softly.

Sherlock smiled and rolled on to his back. He ran his hand up John’s arm and gripped his shoulder as he waited. John straddled his thighs and took a moment to admire every inch before he started kissing and licking his way down.

Sherlock’s body shivered with anticipation as he concentrated on John’s every move. John moved over his hips and followed the dip to the middle. He licked along the shaft before taking him into his mouth. Sherlock exhaled loudly and lifted his head off the bed to watch John. It felt incredible. John glanced up and met his gaze, bobbing his head steadily.

Sherlock was now breathing heavily, and his voice caught in his throat. “Good,” he mumbled, reaching down to pull on John’s arm. “Too good . . . come on. . .”

“What do you want?” John asked, looking up.

“I’d rather . . .” Sherlock said. He sat himself up properly and reached to hold John's cock again. “I’ve got condoms . . . do you have lube?”

John's pupils dilated. "Yes, I do," he nodded, crawling up to get it from the bedside drawer.

Sherlock shifted, reaching for his trousers and pulling out his wallet. He retrieved the condom and threw it on the bed. “It’s new -- I just put it in there,” he said. “Just in case.”

John nodded. "And what did you imagine when you put it in there?"

“That the evening might end this way,” Sherlock confessed.

"And when you were imagining, who was wearing it?" John asked, moving closer. 

“I was,” Sherlock said, reaching for the lube. “That okay?”

John nodded as he found Sherlock's mouth and kissed him hard, lying down on the bed.

Sherlock poured some lube into his hand and began stroking John again as he leaned over him, kissing his mouth hard. His hand moved to squeeze John’s thighs and then slipped between his legs, tugging lightly on his balls and lingering over his hole. John tried to keep still, but he squirmed with pleasure. Sherlock slipped a finger inside him as his mouth moved over John’s face to his ear and then down to his neck.

"That's good . . .’ John mumbled, moving his hands all over Sherlock.

Sherlock moaned a response as he moved to John’s chest, covering it with kisses and sucking on his nipple. He slipped a second finger and continued to pulse them. John moved his hips with Sherlock's fingers, moaning his name softly.

“Ready?” Sherlock asked in a breathy voice.

John nodded, meeting Sherlock's gaze. "Yes . . . I want you . . ."

Sherlock pushed himself up off of John. He used one hand to stroke himself and the other on John as he gazed down. “You’re sexy,” he mumbled and then reached for the condom. He slid it on and then spread more lube over John. He leaned over, resting on one arm, as he lined himself up and slowly began to push inside.

John let his knees fall open even more as he groaned softly, feeling every inch of Sherlock as he was filled. His hands held Sherlock's arms, squeezing lightly.

“Okay?” Sherlock asked softly before leaning down to kiss his mouth.

“Yes,” John said, his voice a whisper as he adjusted to the pleasure.

Sherlock started to move his hips a little more, pushing in deeper. “Fuck,” he exhaled. “It’s good . . .” He shifted his weight so he was leaning on both arms, looking straight down at John. “It’s fucking incredible,” he said. “It’s good . . .” He let his body move freely, pushing harder into John.

John nodded, biting at his skin. He started stroking himself between them.

Sherlock leaned down and kissed John roughly, biting his bottom lip. His thrusts matched his mouth’s urgency. “I’m almost there,” he panted, closing his eyes and letting his body fill with the tension.

"Don’t stop," John said, stroking himself faster.

“John,” Sherlock called as his hips slammed against John once more and he came, his eyes squeezing shut and his heart stopping for a moment. John stroked faster and came between them, clutching Sherlock's shoulder hard as he moaned.

Sherlock dropped onto John, still panting, before sliding to the side and getting rid of the condom. “That was good,” he said looking over. 

John nodded, panting softly. "Amazing..."

“Yes, amazing is a better word,” Sherlock agreed. “I am less articulate in moments like that.” 

John smiled. "You mean moments of complete bliss?" 

“I don’t know that I’ve ever used those words in that order,” he said. He rolled over onto his side. “But I thought it’d be good and it was.”

John smiled wider. "I thought it would be good, too. You didn't disappoint."

“You know, we’re different but . . . I don’t like a lot of people, but I like you.”

"I think we're a good fit," John agreed.

“I’m glad you think so,” Sherlock said. “Mrs Hudson agrees as well. But we needn’t tell her about all this,” he added moving his hand between their bodies.

"I think she'll know,” John said. “I wondered if this whole thing was a scheme of hers.”

Sherlock smiled. “Yes,” he said. “She’s always coming up with schemes. I doubt there was ever a problem with the pipes in that house. That’s just the kind of thing she’d do.”

John rolled closer to Sherlock and lifted a hand to his face. “I’m glad she did,” he said.

Sherlock kissed John’s mouth. He was glad as well.


End file.
